Making the Call
by Shi-Toyu
Summary: When he catches Natasha is a compromising position, Clint must decide whether to trust himself and stand against her or let her proceed down a path that will end with herself and others being hurt. Part of the Of Mischief and Metal series but can be read as a stand-alone fic. Slight Clintasha is you want.


A/N: This is yet another piece for my Of Mischief and Metal series, but it can be read as a stand-alone fic. For the series, it takes place about three weeks after Bag of Cats.

Making the Call

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Natasha was typing away at one of the computer terminals that Tony had designated specifically for Stark Industries business. He kept them scattered throughout the tower so he didn't have to actually travel to another floor whenever Pepper called on him to do something. (And doing it through JARVIS was clearly out of the question.) The room was set out of the way and Clint never would have stumbled across her here if he hadn't been looking for her.

One of Tony's cats, the black one with green eyes that always make Clint feel a little uneasy, lay sprawled across a nearby table. The archer had no idea where the felines kept coming from or even how many were in the tower at this point. Cap had already blown up at Tony twice because of their presence. Apparently one of them kept confusing the captain's closet with a litter box.

"It looks like you're trying to hack in somewhere you shouldn't be."

Natasha just shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure the fact that I shouldn't be there is part of the very definition of hacking."

A sick sensation curled in the pit of Clint's stomach and he clenched his hands into fists in an effort to rid himself of the ghost-feeling left behind by Tony's struggling. He couldn't believe they'd actually done that to the genius, betrayed him in his own home, hurt him.

"Did Fury put you up to this?"

"Apparently the last round of specs our guys pulled were incomplete. He wants the full repulsor technology run down so he doesn't have to keep calling Stark in for maintenance."

She said it so passively, so flippantly…it sent goosebumps running all along Clint's skin. He didn't blame Natasha, not really. Her time in the Red Room had stripped her of the ability to see things as right or wrong. Even now, she struggled with that concept. Ever since he'd spared her life and turned her into a SHIELD agent, Clint had been the one she turned to for guidance. He hadn't been doing his job very well lately.

"He's the one who hired Tony on as a consultant. I don't think he really has a right to complain about having to pay for it now."

Natasha just shrugged and continued on with her typing. The black cat had raised its head at Clint's entry and seemed to be watching attentively, fucking creepy furball. Silence stretched between them and Natasha continued to type away at the computer terminal. Clint knew he'd been treading on eggshells ever since the incident with Loki, but he couldn't just let this happen. He hadn't trusted his gut when Natasha and Steve had broken into Tony's lab, hadn't stood his ground, but he wasn't going to make that mistake again.

"Nat…You need to stop."

Her fingers froze on the keys for a moment before she turned slowly to face him, expression a blank mask.

"Are you interfering with my mission?"

Clint flinched, almost backed down. Those where the same words she'd spoken to him when he'd been sent to kill her. Steeling himself, he lifted his chin in defiance.

"I'm not going to let you do this, Natasha. It's wrong. I told you I'd help you get the red off your ledger, so I'm not just going to stand here and let you put more in it."

Natasha snorted.

"Oh, come on. It's not like anyone's getting hurt."

"What about Tony? He's our _friend_. If he hasn't given those specs over to SHIELD then he probably has a reason for it."

"Like he had a reason for not letting us in his lab?"

"_Exactly_ like that. Dammit, Nat! If I hadn't untied Tony, Barnes could have _killed_ you-You know what, I don't need to explain that one to you."

"No, I suppose you don't." Natasha cocked one hip to lean against the table. "You called Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes to do that for you."

Clint flinched. He hadn't realized she'd known it was him who'd spilled the beans of what happened to Tony's best friends and caused them storming the tower. He should've known better than to be so naïve.

"I'm not letting you do this, Nat. I'm just not. You're better than this, and he sure as Hell doesn't deserve it."

"And what are you going to do in order to stop me?"

She asked the question haughtily, every muscle still relaxed. She didn't believe he'd actually act against her. He certainly didn't want to. A large part of him wanted to just cringe away from the confrontation, wished he'd never come looking for her here and could remain totally oblivious to the situation. But he _had_ come and found her and he couldn't let this happen, not again. He owed it to Tony to make sure the genius was safe in his own home. He owed it to Natasha to keep her on the right path. Moreover, he owed it to himself to trust his own instincts and follow his gut. It was what had saved Natasha's life in the first place. It was what had convinced him to follow Coulson all those years ago.

Clint slid one leg backward, planting his foot in the plush carpet and bending his knees slightly to create a solid base. His arms came up in front of him to protect his torso and face, fists ready to block or lash out as needed. His glare was resolute as he kept it squarely on Natasha.

"Whatever it takes. If you want that information, you're going to have to go through me."

Of all the responses he could have imagined, Clint really didn't expect Natasha to burst out laughing. He dropped his guard for all of a split second and that was all it took for Natasha to dart into his space and flip him to the ground. Once she had him pinned, she swooped down to peck him on the cheek, surprising him all over again.

"Welcome back. I was starting to worry about you."

Then she was up and strolling out of the room like she'd never had a reason to be there in the first place. Clint could only stare after her dumbly. A soft thud was all the warning he got before the black haired cat was pressing against the archer's side. Heaving a sigh, Clint reached out to gently rub it behind the ears. This particular feline had a tendency to bite if it didn't get the attention it thought it deserved.

"I just got completely played, didn't I?"

The cat only purred in response and proceeded to climb onto the archer's prone form and curl up in his chest. Great. Now he was stuck there unless he wanted claws imbedded in his face. Where the fuck had Tony found these things?


End file.
